


where the waves meet the shore

by carminesunset



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Background Andriel, F/M, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 04:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carminesunset/pseuds/carminesunset
Summary: Nicky was perfectly happy being average, even if being the prince meant he was always meant to be more-than-average.Thrust into the midst of a war and forced into a political betrothal, Nicky, Prince of Maer, must navigate the political tension at their borders and within the castle.





	where the waves meet the shore

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!! this is my first time doing a big bang ever and i am extremely nervous to post this, but i hope you like it??? it will be about 6 chapters (maybe 7? if the last chapter gets too long) and i plan to update maybe once or twice a week :D  
first of all, thank u to all my betas!!  
secondly, thank u to nico and bela for organizing this event!! y'all have worked so hard, tysm!!!  
thirdly, the artist i am working with for this event is @kayleighsday on tumblr, when the edit gets posted i'll link it in this chapter and the next one, so please check it out!

Once upon a time in a land far, far away there was an ordinary Kingdom. In this kingdom there was no magic, no mythical creatures — just ordinary people in an ordinary land. There was of course a King, Queen, and a Prince. Prince Nicholas Esteban Hemmick was an ordinary prince, though he dreamed of many great things. His father, Luther, was the king and his mother Maria was the queen. 

Prince Nicholas — or Nicky as he later preferred to be called — was not only ordinary, he was also average. Average in his study, average in his swordsmanship, and he was perfectly happy that way, even if being the prince meant he was always meant to be more-than-average.

-

Age 0.

Prince Nicholas Esteban Hemmick was born at a healthy 8 pounds, squalling fiercely. 10 fingers and 10 toes, announced the midwife proudly. His mother was not so lucky; after many years of failed pregnancies and miscarriages, this final birth had taken its toll. The royal physician told King Luther that there would be little chance, if any, that she would bear another child. Queen Maria’s heart was heavy, but King Luther was still satisfied: he had his heir.

The baby had his mother’s hair and complexion, but the shape of his nose, eyes, and chin were all his father’s. It was the perfect mix of mother and father, and the kingdom would surely rejoice at the birth of their country’s newest royal. He handed the babe to the nearest maid and left after leaving orders to let his queen rest. His mind was quickly occupied with matters other than the birth of his son.

The squalling baby’s cries faded behind him.

Age 1.

Prince Nicholas was surely the apple of the castle’s eye. He was eager to share a smile to all who visited him, and everyone, from the serving girls to the knights doted on him. The little prince rarely cried as an infant and one look into his eyes would melt the heart of anyone — with the exception of one person.

“It’s just a shame that the King never visits,” whispers one maid to another as they watch the nursemaid slip into the babe’s room.

And it was true: King Luther rarely took the time to visit his own son and left the care to the various maids and nannies under his employ. 

The baby was far too young to notice, though. He was content to be cared for by the castle staff, and though his mother visited him regularly, he never seemed to suffer when he was away.

The castle loved him, and he in turn loved the castle and its occupants.

-

Age 5.

His first memory of King Luther is of a great swath of blue fabric adorned upon broad shoulders. He didn’t remember the look on his face, or why he was there — if he were to be honest with himself, he couldn’t remember a time growing up when King Luther looked  _ at _ him and not  _ through _ him.

As an infant, Prince Nicholas did not notice his father’s distance. He didn’t understand it at first, nor what he wanted. Stand up straight. Do not slouch. Children are to be seen, not heard. Do not speak unless you are spoken to.

As a child, all he wanted to do was rebel and play and shout — 

He learned quickly to accept what he was told and to not question his father’s orders.

-

Age 7.

The babies were tiny, pink little things with tufts of bright blonde hair. They reminded him of the stable master’s newest puppies all squirming and pink. His Aunt Tilda was in the next room, sleeping. She had been tucked away in her room for the past two weeks since they were born.

“You’re so small…” Nicholas murmured as he peeked through the bars of the crib to look at his infant baby cousins. “My governess says you’re too small for me to play with, so grow up soon okay? We can play knights and have lessons together because they’re so boring but with you guys it’ll be so fun and I can show you where to catch cool frogs —“

“Your Highness!”

Nicholas turned around guiltily. His governess stood at the doorway with her arms crossed. 

“I was just…”

“ _ No _ excuses. You were supposed to be at your lessons an hour ago. The children will still be here when you come back.” She herded him out of the room with a painful grip on his shoulder. He reluctantly waved goodbye.

When he was finally allowed to leave classes, he snuck his way toward the twins’ room. When he peeked in, they were being fed by one of the nannies. He made a face. Playing with adults was  _ boring. _ The twins would be there when he came back, he knew. Nicky turned from the room and snuck away once again into the recesses of the castle.

In his many hours spent exploring the castle — mostly in an effort to avoid his lessons — he had found many of the castle’s secrets. One such secret was a hidden corridor that led to the outside of the castle’s walls. This was where he escaped to.

The hidden passageway was hidden behind a statue and underneath a tapestry. For him it was the perfect size, but for someone big like an adult, it was sure to be a tight squeeze. All in all, it was the perfect hiding spot.

He ducked through the opening, edging past the tight corners, until he reached the end of the hidden corridor. There was a lever to open the stone door, accessible only from the inside; with great effort, he managed to heave it open. The old mechanism creaked and groaned and with another push at the lever, it scraped open. Satisfied, Nicky looked out onto the sea. The passageway led to the face of the cliff; at first glance, the cliff was a steep rocky surface, but one of his ancestors had carved a sloping path down the side of the cliff. The rocky bay kept enemy ships from getting too close to the cliff-face, and a weather-worn rope served as a handrail. 

Heights didn’t scare Nicholas, though. 

He scampered his way down to the cliff and onto the small inlet at the base of the cliff. The high tide concealed it, but at this time of day, the tide was low enough for him to poke his way through a hidden cave until he appeared on the other side of the cliff. The cave opened up onto an open beach littered with driftwood and kelp. Without hesitation, Nicky tugged off his boots, rolled up his pants, and ran out to meet the waves.

Seafoam swirled about his ankles, and he delighted in the feeling of gritty sand underneath his feet. For a moment he imagined what it would be like to swim into the waves, duck down beneath the sea, and play with all the creatures of the deep.

“Hi, who are you?”

Nicholas whipped around in a panic. No one could know that he had snuck out of the castle — Sir Drake had told him scary stories of naughty Princes being eaten by big, bad dragons. But it was merely another boy standing there, staring at him curiously. They were of the same height, though the other boy was thin and lanky where Nicholas still bore the fat of childhood. His clothes had patches where the fabric had worn thin.

The other boy told Nicky his name. “I haven’t seen anyone play here before,” continued the boy. Nicky was still silent. The other boy didn’t seem to be too bothered. He grinned. He was missing a front tooth. “Do you want to be my friend?”

Nicholas had never had a friend, before. Even though the maids doted on him, they never got close to them, and there weren’t any children in the castle other than himself. The cook he knew had a daughter, but not once had he met her. He felt loved, yes, but still so very lonely.

Nicholas hesitated before replying. “... Nich-Nicky. My name is Nicky.” As long as his governess or anyone else from the castle didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t see the harm in making a friend.

A  _ friend. _ Nicholas’ stomach jumped in excitement at the thought.

-

Nicholas learned soon that the other boy was a commoner. Having never interacted with one outside of the castle’s staff, he was fascinated. He taught him all about the games commoner children played and how he helped his father in his forge. (His father was a blacksmith, apparently.) A son, learning about his father’s trade. 

Nicholas learned that commoners were not so different from himself at all.

When he asked him about his own life, he kept it vague — he was from a noble family and snuck out to have some fun. His governess always told him that lying was bad, but. Well.  _ Technically _ he wasn’t lying.

After their first meeting, they met as often as they could at that secluded beach. Once, as they were playing, they almost got caught by a pair of fisherman. Nicholas grabbed his arm and tugged him into the secluded cave.

“Whoa! I never knew about this cave!”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about it,” Nicky whispered worriedly. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone about it.”

“I promise.” His friend held out his pinky, and Nicky hooked his with the boy’s. “Pinky promise. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I ratted you out?”

They both edged out to the cave entrance; luckily for them, the fishermen were far enough away from shore for them to sneak out.

“Follow me,” he said, pulling Nicholas along by his hand. “I can show you where we can catch  _ huge _ frogs!”

And so the days passed with them meeting in secret and playing until their cheeks ached from smiling.

It was not meant to be.

-

His first and last mistake was sneaking out earlier than usual to skip his lessons. 

Usually, no one paid attention to his whereabouts between the times of his last lesson and dinner, but he was too impatient to wait. One of the maids had taught him how to create a bracelet out of twine, thread, and shells. The last time he and his friend had met, Nicky tucked away handfuls of seashells in his pockets.

He picked his way through the inlet, clutching his precious cargo. There was a large piece of driftwood that he and the other boy often played pirates on; it was there that he waited for his friend to arrive. As he sat down, he opened the wrapping to reveal a bracelet of his own creation. It was lumpy and lopsided, but it was

perfect to match the one on his own wrist. Pleased, he carefully wrapped it once more in its package and passed the time by throwing seashells into the water.

Eventually, he caught the sound of a boot against rock and sand behind him. He turned around excited.

Instead of his friend, his father’s most trusted knight stood there, hand resting on the pommel of sword. Nicky fell back into the sand in surprise.

“Found you,” Sir Drake smirked. He was nicknamed “The Dragon” for a reason — his smile only conveyed malice, and Nicky was sure that if he was anything other than human, he would be licking his fangs in anticipation. “His Majesty was —  _ concerned _ for your whereabouts.” In a few quick strides Sir Drake was above him. He hauled Nicky up with a painful grip and shook him once, harshly. “Thought it was  _ odd _ that the castle maids always had to clean sand out of your clothes.” Drake bent down to look him in the eye. Nicky kept his gaze firmly planted at his feet. “You know not to leave the castle without permission. You’re His Majesty’s  _ darling _ heir, after all. And you  _ know _ what happens to little princes who are bad, right?” He grabbed Nicky’s chin to force him to look directly into his eyes. Nicky whimpered, but Sir Drake eventually let go of his chin and arm.

“Follow me. And don’t fall behind. I won’t be coming back for you if you get lost.” Sir Drake led him away from the beach, and Nicky scrambled to follow. He clenched the bracelet in his pocket and vowed to come back.

-

Age 10.

Ever since that day, Nicky was watched closely by the King’s guards. More and more work was piled upon him, and he hardly had time to play with all his lessons. And one day, Nicky realized that he couldn’t quite recall his dear friend’s name, and the memory of his face was a blur of blonde and blue. The only thing he had left of their friendship was a clumsily made bracelet tucked within his drawers. Sometimes he wondered if he had just imagined the other boy.

When he turned ten, he was introduced to the other nobles and their children. At first, he was excited to make more friends, but it was not meant to be. The children were either too terrified to talk to him because of his status, or so pompous and rude that it was a chore to interact with them. 

“You must get along with them,” his mother told him when he complained. “Yes, you may not particularly enjoy their company, but one day they may be your advisors, your allies, and maybe even your knights. Don’t worry, my son. Everyone grows up some day — even your peers.”

So he swallowed his pride and developed a cheery, personable mask. Where once he awkwardly ignored his shy peers and cringed away from the others, he instead drew them in. Even as his circle of friends grew, he felt lonelier and lonelier. His only solace were the twins, who quickly took up all of his rare free time.

He longed for the beach, where the salt in the air made his hair gritty and the sand dug into his toes.

-

Age 13.

When the twins turned six, their mother died. A sickness, they were all told. It couldn’t be helped, they were all told.

But what Nicky knew, wasthat she never saw them, never held them. Shut up in her quarters she made no effort to bond with her sons, forcing them to be raised by the various castle staff, wet nurses, and Nicky. Every night she drank tinctures to sleep, ate meals only in her rooms, and ignored smoked pipes of mind-altering herbs.

A quiet funeral was held. There was no pompous ceremony for a Duchess once regarded as the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, and her children were quickly forgotten by the rest of the Kingdom.

-

Age 15. 

His name was Christopher, and he was the most beautiful man Nicky had ever met. When he smiled, his green eyes crinkled handsomely in the corners, and he had one charming dimple on his cheek. 

He was the first person Nicky had ever fallen in love with.

He had read stories before, romance ones, about the heroine who falls for the dashing knight in bright and shining armor. Neither of them are knights nor heroines, but Nicky still felt as though his heart was swept away every time they meet eyes. 

Christopher was a noble from a neighboring kingdom, come to learn from Maer’s scholars. In the mornings he sat next to Nicky and in between bites of food, he would speak of his studies. The spark of joy in his eyes would make Nicky’s heart flutter.

In the afternoons they had lesson after lesson together; Christopher would make faces behind their geography tutor's back. (In their defense: their tutor was a grouchy old man whose breath smelled like old garlic.)

In the evenings they met in darkened corridors and fumbled at each other’s clothes. Kisses pressed to lips, to necks, to bodies — 

His name was Christopher, and he was Nicky’s first love.

-

Age 16.

“Mm, wait, wait — ”

Nicky pulled away from where he was sucking hickeys into Christopher’s neck. “What?” He demanded.

“You can’t leave any marks.”

“You’ve never cared before now.”

Christopher pulled Nicky away by tugging at his hair. “You can’t, Nicky. I mean it.”

“Why not?” Nicky tugged at his shirt again, but his hands were swatted away.

“I know some people in the castle have begun to talk. We’re not exactly subtle. We can’t let anyone find out.”

_ “Why not? _ ” Christopher grew still. Nicky couldn’t look at him. “I’m the prince. Aren’t I entitled to what I want? And I want  _ you. _ ”

“You’re so naive,” Christopher sighed. “I’ll forget it for now.” When Nicky still would not look up at him, Christopher tilted his chin up with a finger until he met his eyes. “Don’t be such a child,” he admonished, then sighed. “We can still have fun. We just have to be careful, is all.” Nicky’s hand was grasped and pulled toward the front of Christopher’s trousers.

There was a part of Nicky that was hesitant, but he decided to put his faith in Christopher anyways. 

-

When Christopher turned 18, Nicholas threw a modest party for them and their peers. Neither of them were as close to the other young nobles, and even as they mingled, Nicholas could not take his eyes off Christopher. 

“Congratulations,” he heard a wealthy merchant’s son say to Christopher. “Are you excited? Have you received her portrait, yet? I’ve heard all of her sisters are just as beautiful.” The man nudged Christopher with an elbow. “Maybe once you can get married you can share.” They shared a raucous laugh.

Nicholas turned cold.

“Oh, Prince Nicholas,” the group turned to him. “Come join us. Christopher was telling us about his new bride-to-be.”

“Bride-to-be?” Nicholas asked shakily. He clenched his fist to hide it.

The merchant’s son raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t know? I’m surprised. I thought you two were close. You threw this party, after all.”

“No, I — I knew. I’m just surprised that his fiancee didn’t cancel after seeing his ugly mug of a portrait.” The group once again laughed at Christopher’s expense. 

Nicholas did not look at Christopher and Christopher did not look at him.

-

There were no clandestine meetings for the next fortnight. Where the conversation usually flowed at meals, they were instead stilted and awkward. Once their hands touched as he passed the bread, and in his surprise he dropped the bowl, spilling the contents over the table and floor.

Their classes together were equally awkward. There were no passed notes, no whispered remarks, no mocking expressions at their tutors’ backs. In their geography class, Christopher tried to pass a note to him, but Nicholas crumpled it up without reading it. As they left the class, Nicholas pointedly dropped it to the ground.

Things came to a head three weeks after the party. Restlessness claimed Nicholas at night, and try as he might, he was unable to sleep. He slipped out of bed and pulled a robe on. It was near pitch black in the room, but the moonlight peeking from the open window lit his way. He peeked under the doorway of his bedroom. He could see the shadows of the guards standing in front of his room. Satisfied in the knowledge that they would be unlikely to check his room in the night, he snuck to his wardrobe. 

He opened the wardrobe door. It let out a creak, and he paused, waiting for someone to knock on his door. Nothing happened. He opened it all the way and felt for the latch in the back. After a few moments of fumbling, a hidden door swung open without a sound. He glanced once more at the door before slipping into the hidden passageway.

The passageway led to a secluded corridor at the corner of the castle. Once he reached the end of the passageway, yet another latch moved aside a patch of wall behind a dusty statue. The nights were usually warm during this summer, but this part of the castle was mostly uninhabited and cold. He tucked his robe around him tighter.

He peeked out of the statue’s alcove. No one. Nicholas slowly crept his way to his favorite part of the castle, a long-forgotten corner that overlooked the cliffside. He pressed his forehead against the glass of the window and looked down at the dizzying distance to the base of the cliffs below.

“Your Highness?” Nicholas didn’t turn around. Footsteps, and then a pair of arms circled around his waist. “Nicholas.” A kiss against the back of his neck. Still Nicholas did not acknowledge Christopher.

“... What are you doing here?” Nicholas finally asked. 

“You’ve been avoiding me. I was concerned,” Christopher replied. Nicholas wriggled in his arms until he was facing him. Even though he was angry at him, he was still so devastatingly handsome. “You’re not mad at what you heard at the party, right?”

The  _ audacity —  _

“Of course I am,” Nicholas snapped. “To think that we’ve been — while you — ” He pushed Christopher away and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “It’s just not right. For us to do  _ this —  _ ” Nicholas gestured between the two of them. “ — when you’re betrothed. What would your fiance think if she were to find out about us? Or if her parents found out?”

“Well, they’re not,” Christopher said matter-of-factly. “Besides, you always knew that this would be temporary.” Nicholas’ breath caught. ”Unless… you thought this would be something  _ more? _ ”

“I — ”

Christopher took a step back, disgusted. “This was never meant to be anything more than some fun, a way for us to relax. I’m not like  _ that. _ ”

“Don’t you dare say that like it’s a bad thing.” The terrible hurt Nicholas felt broiled into anger. “This was always a fully consensual arrangement.”

“I was right.” Christopher shook his head. “You really  _ are _ naive. This ends here. It was fun, but nothing more than that.”

Nicholas watched him walk away, numb.

He swallowed his feelings and his hurt and vowed to never again fall for another.


End file.
